This was somewhat unusual, as he was generally very bland and polite, but to-night he was so cantankerous that I fancied he must have been drinking.

To me he was especially insulting, and went so far as to hint that I, unlike other Englishmen, was a coward; that I hadn't courage to resist a man manfully, but would act towards an enemy in a cunning, serpent-like way.
This was not the first occasion on which he had sought to pick a quarrel with me, and I felt like resenting it.

I desisted, however, as there were ladies present, and went on quietly talking to my neighbour as if he hadn't spoken.

This roused his ire more, while I saw that Voltaire watched me with his light glittering eye, as if expecting a scene.
After dinner, this being New Year's Day, we passed a more than usually merry time.

Stories were told, old ballads were sung, while Roger de Coverley was danced in downright earnest by most of those who were present.